


Treasure(d)

by vantasarcastic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, eridan is sad and insecure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 04:01:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17615066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vantasarcastic/pseuds/vantasarcastic
Summary: Your name is Eridan Ampora and you aren't sure you know how it feels to be loved.





	Treasure(d)

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is the first time since making this account that i've actually managed to finish something all the way through and post it here and it's for one of my weird rarepairs that only me and like five other people in the whole world care about but hey. i Created A Thing. so. the idea for this just kind of hit me out of nowhere one morning so here it is.  
> also i'm bad at summaries and i'm sorry

When you’d first met Terezi Pyrope, all wide dangerous grins, sharp teeth and sharper wit, a glint in her eyes (still seeing, back then, though not for much longer) which spoke of a sadistic intelligence and propensity for mind games that frankly frightened you a bit, it had been a very different time in your life; a time before your fragile ego had been quite as broken, a time when you still had two quadrants to your name, Feferi pale and Vriska pitch. In fact, it had been Vriska who’d introduced you, bragging about her then-FLARPing partner, and how much better they both were at the game than you. You’d FLARPed with the two of them once or twice after that, the girls teaming up, leaving you to compete against them alone, one-on-two, but Vriska still seemed to prefer to take you on on her own, putting her cooperation with her Scourge Sister to use to take on Aradia and Tavros instead. (Not that Teams Scourge or Charge had lasted much longer after that, so you’d ended up hearing from Vriska herself.) At that time, you could tell Terezi was formidable, not someone to be messed with, tongue and weapon equally dangerous (no wonder she and Vriska had gotten on so well back then), and you respected that in a troll. But back then you were far too preoccupied with your then-moirail and how you’d so desperately wished instead to be her matesprit (how foolish of you both, the two of you were never suited to be either) to notice some of Terezi’s… nicer qualities; how pretty her smile was when she actually, genuinely smiled instead of one of her wicked threatening wide-toothed grins, the way she’d tilt her head back slightly when she’d let out a laugh that, for all it could be accurately described as a cackle, somehow still sounded strangely pleasing... No, back then she’d simply been a friend of your kismesis, someone you’d respected but not thought much else of.

 

But that was then, and now, here on the meteor, game technically behind you but so much still left to face ahead, those things you never noticed before have since become downright enchanting to you. It hasn’t been very long since Terezi became your matesprit, but already you feel so much happier (and that’s a difficult emotion, for you), so much more _comfortable_  than you had back then, when you were floundering through two futile relationships with trolls who would both in time tire of you. Terezi hasn’t tired of you, not yet at least (and you should hope not, in such a short time, but you wouldn’t put it past yourself to drive someone off that quickly), and for that you’re incredibly grateful. In fact, she seems to be thoroughly enjoying the relationship, it shows in all her playful teasing of you, how she laughs (how sweet a sound it is) at your reactions, she thinks you, Eridan Ampora, are _cute_ , “ _adorable_ ,” she claims, and though you react with indignation the way your face flushes when she says it betrays you; she is having fun, and you are _enamored_  with her. It shows too in the way she practically sticks to you in the meteor’s public spaces, almost always in physical contact or at least very, very close to you any time the two of you are in anyone else’s line of sight, carefully composed subtleties, you are _hers_  and she wants every last troll on this rock to know it, and you love, _relish_  that attention. You are just as showy about it, returning every strategically placed public display of affection, slipping mention of “ _my matesprit,_ ” accompanied with a proud tone and boastful stance, into any and every conversation you can manage.

But for all you revel in telegraphing your relationship status for all to see, for how much you adore the way she flaunts you about, there is a deeper, darker part of your mind that makes itself known to you at odd hours alone in your block with naught but your own thoughts, your terrible, disquieting thoughts, for company. Your anxiety will not be kept at bay and your insecurities have not gone anywhere, new insecurities you didn’t know you had coming to the surface even, and this part of you, too loud to ignore, wonders if that’s _all_  you are to her, just something to flaunt about, a pretty accessory to be shown off. You know that Alternian society should have it that having a seadweller as a matesprit is considered well worth bragging about; you also know that Alternia is gone, and its society therefore gone with it, and that Terezi isn’t _like_  that, she’s never cared about your status, but your insidious, traitorous thoughts _will not leave you alone_. You think of how, in private, she’d oft joke and tease and call you a _treasure_ , part of her “dragon’s hoard,” and though each time you’d find the comments strangely endearing, and roll your eyes as you pretended not to be flattered by it (and she knew you were), now even that is used by your own mind against you. Even if it has nothing to do with your status, could there not still be other reasons? Perhaps it was your looks, or even just the simple fact of having a matesprit, something most (all? You’re unsure of everyone’s relationship status, can’t be bothered to care) of the the others don’t have. In any case, you cannot shake these sinister, troublesome thoughts, telling you that you are little more than a _trophy matesprit_ , and dammit you want more than that. You want to be truly, deeply, genuinely _cared for_ , and as much as you try to tell yourself that _she does, she does, Terezi loves you and cares about you and that other part of you is wrong, HAS to be wrong, please be wrong_ , the fear still continues to eat away at you.

 

It comes out late one morning, between gentle kisses and contented sighs, as the two of you sit on the couch in your private block illuminated only by the dim light of a television barely louder than muted. You whisper that you love her and she says the same back, and you respond to this without thinking; it is well past the time any troll should be awake, and you are tired and all too honest for it, and the question slips out, “you mean that, you’re not just sayin that right?,” and you regret it as soon as the words leave your lips. She pulls away, perhaps a vestigial habit from when she could see or perhaps just so you can better see her face, as she could smell you just fine from where she was. Her brow furrows as she frowns at you, and the look stabs you in the heart; she asks you what you mean and for a moment you open and close your mouth repeatedly, uselessly, as you can’t find the words to answer. You know what you’re thinking, what you want to say, but how on Alternia, or LOWAA, or Skaia, or wherever the hell else are you supposed to tell _her_  that?

Apparently you remain silent for too long, because her frown deepens just slightly as she says your name, sternly, and you wince just a bit at the sound. You hesitate a moment, swallow, take a deep breath and then another before you finally let yourself try to speak. You have difficulty coming up with a way to begin, stumbling over “wwell”s and “um”s and “I just”s, until finally you steel yourself, breathe a deep sigh, and force yourself to move forward. You still start off slowly, wanting to ease into it, but that lasts all of half a sentence and then you can’t help yourself, it all comes pouring out, every anxiety, insecurity, every dark thought that had been plaguing your late mornings alone, everything you fear you may be, a plaything, possession, _trophy matesprit_ , something to boast of having rather than truly care for, more akin to a particularly expensive _decoration_  than a real romantic partner, and by the end of it, you’ve begun to choke up, you can feel the beginnings of tears start to sting and prick at your eyes (how pathetic, you think), and you’re looking away from her, both in shame of yourself and fear of her reaction. When she doesn’t speak, you carefully, hesitantly turn your head back to look at her. She is gaping at you with an expression absolutely turbulent with emotion, confused, betrayed, taken aback, __hurt__ , and it is heart-wrenching to see. You feel sick to your stomach, absolutely disgusted with yourself, why, _why_ , did you let yourself say those things, you are a horrible, pathetic excuse for a matesprit, for a _person_ , what a terrible thing to accuse her of, and god, you’ve sabotaged yourself you can feel it. This is the end then, you know it, once again you’ve driven someone away, and in record time, she’s going to leave you for this and you’ll be alone again and you only have yourself to blame, she’ll want nothing to do with you now, she’ll break up with you and she’ll never speak to you again and… she kisses you.

When the kiss is over, you can only stare dumbfounded at her as you try to process it. After a moment, your brow furrows in confusion, an unspoken question that she answers by taking your hand in both of hers. She still looks sad, but it’s a sympathetic sort of sad, she’s _pitying_  you, you realize. She asks first where this is coming from, she’d thought you liked it when she’d call you a treasure, thought you knew it was just another term of endearment, thought you enjoyed showing off together, and you tell her you do, it’s sweet, you do, you swear, and you’re sorry, and you don’t _know_ , but before you can say another word, her expression becomes serious and her sightless eyes make contact with yours in a way that is just intense enough to shut you up. Her voice is stern when she assures you, _promises_  you that she loves you, and then she embraces you and you so easily fall into her arms. Her voice softens again as she continues to reassure you, and you listen as she tells you that you are _not_  just a “trophy matesprit” or a possession or a plaything, that you are handsome and so cute but you are so much more than just something pretty to show off, she flaunts you, flaunts your relationship _because_  she loves you and she is so, so glad to have you as a matesprit. Your tears have begun to flow freely by now, and you know she can smell them because her arms tighten around you as she keeps talking. You _are_ her treasure, because you are _treasured_ , you are so special, so _important_  to her, she tells you, and you nod shakily, swallowing back the lump that has formed in your throat. She tells you again that she loves you, so, so much, and you tell her you love her too. Once more you tell her that you’re sorry, and she tells you its okay, places a kiss on your forehead, and you give her one of your rare smiles you reserve only for her, and she smells this too and smiles back.

Eyes closed, you let her hold you there like that for the rest of the morning; you are content, and comfortable, and you have never felt more at peace than you do in Terezi’s arms. You are enamored with this girl, and she with you, and for the first time in your life, you feel deeply, _truly_ , loved.


End file.
